Kilby's poor-quality beard and sardonically chatty manner inevitably invite comparisons with a younger, Bristolian version of Daniel Kitson. But there are no prizes for guessing who would come off worse from such a match-up.

Kilby's is a pleasant enough new act; he's a witty raconteur who proves engaging company, but the laughs just don't come hard or fast enough. And his wry manner feels just a bit too close to many of his peers to be truly distinctive.

He has at least one brilliantly quotable joke, about a confectionary Jesus, although at the other extreme he heads unnecessarily below the belt for later laughs. Decent enough, but he just lacks that X-factor.